Tales Olim: The Forgotten Legends
by Hazelnut1278
Summary: "Just because you're older and have so much more 'life experience', doesn't mean you have the right to push me around." She snarled, shoving him in the chest. He stumbled back, and fell. Then she snapped out of it and stared at her hands. "Oh my god..." She stared at her hands. "What've I done?" [Eventual Legomance] [Tenth Walker]
1. Chapter 0 - Prologue

**Chapter 0 - Prologue**

" _Promises mean everything. But after they are broken, they mean nothing."_

The mind of a mere child is hard to replicate. It sees the word through a white veil, one with happiness and sunflowers and smiles. Over the years, the veils slowly melt away with maturity and age, to reveal the true extent of the world. But some have the veils ripped away before the time, and when they are, it's like ripping off a half healed scab.

It leaves a permanent scar.

Once upon a time, a long long time ago, lived a little girl named Halcyon Cytus Kurainazo Chevanelle. She had a strange lineage, Japanese-Chinese on her mother's side, and French on her father's side. According to her father, she had inherited the delicate features and large doe eyes of her mother, although while her mother's eyes were deep brown, hers were sharp violet with flecks of silver and gold in them. She looked nothing like her father, something that she had found strange since a young age, but she hadn't commented on it. When you're 4, things like matching your looks with your parents didn't matter much.

Captain Chatogh Chevanelle was an army general, a Special Division Black Hawk and an Air Force pilot. He had a Black Hawks snapback that he liked to wear and his dog tags were always around his neck. Her father was a loyal man, through and through. He'd even started to teach her, a 3 year old girl, survival skills, how to travel light, basic first aid, and capoeira, a Brazilian Jiujutsu style which main focus was to keep moving, and catch out the opponent. He'd also taught her the piano and violin, and she'd soaked up her newfound knowledge like a sponge.

Her mother had laughed, before teaching her ninjutsu (their great-great grandfather was a legendary ninja Grandmaster), how to cook, sew and read. She'd really enjoyed playing poker and reading. Her favourite series were the Paladin's Prophecy. Halcyon had learnt a lot, and they were a happy family. Then a new baby brother had been born, a beautiful boy.

But that day came.

One day, when Halcyon was six, Captain Chatogh Chevanelle came home looking exhausted. Halcyon had noticed, standing behind the piano room door, as her father took her mother's hand and said, "I'll be going off to fight in Iraq. This is...a dangerous mission. I don't know when I'll be back." They'd had another intense conversation in hushed whispers and muted voices.

Her mother had cried, but nodded. Then she'd climbed the steps to her bedroom to weep in peace, clutching her son, Elliot Chevanelle to her chest. Her father had looked for her, and when he'd finally found her hiding in her room, he'd talked to her in private.

"Sweetie, this is a big war, I truly do not know when I'll be back." Her father had started, then sighed, before continuing. "But I want you to know that I'll always love you. Always and Forever." This was a set of words that they'd always exchanged, but today it seemed more… important. But Halcyon had nodded all the same, and her father had drawn out five objects. Two were a pair of dog tags. One had the inscription : _Captain Chatogh Chevanelle, 2nd Lieutenant Black Hawks Special Operations Team._ On the other side were the simple words : _Honour. Courage. Sacrifice._ The other dog tag was the same except it was from the Air Force, and the words inscribed on the back were just _Survive._ _生存。_ He passed them to her.

The third object was a Swiss Army Knife, with a well polished mahogany handle, and the knife was well honed. This one was a larger one, about the size of a normal knife.

"This will protect you." Her father had promised.

The last was a old book, the inside filled with several quotes. She remembered that her father's side of the family had passed this book down for centuries, filling quotes that they liked. Her father's last entry was :

" _You're mad."_

" _Thank goodness for that 'cause if I wasn't this would probably never work."_

 _~Captain Jack Sparrow to Lord Cutler Beckett_

 _(Pirates Of The Caribbean: At World's End)_

Then he'd told her, "Take care of your mother for me, will you?" And Halcyon had nodded.

The next day, Captain Chatogh had left for the army. He'd hugged and embraced her mother, and knelt down next to Halcyon, who'd kissed him on the nose, and he'd laughed.

He said, "My sweet, one day you'll understand this moment. Remember, for what we want most, there is a price to be paid in the end. Be strong. I will come back for you. I promise. You are a protector. Remember that."

Then he'd left.

The next few days were alright. Halcyon and her mother checked the news constantly for any sign of Chatogh. Nothing came out, but Halcyon simply assumed that it was difficult to get news in a war. But then something happened.

 _Knock knock._

"Hello, may I speak to Mrs Chevanelle?" A weatherbeaten man dressed in old army fatigues was standing outside the door. She didn't recognise it then, but there was sorrow all over his face.

Halcyon nodded and stood aside. She recognised the man. This man had come over constantly to visit her father and sang bawdy pub songs. He'd clearly had had enough practice at drunken singing to become rather good at it when sober. 1st Lieutenant Lawrence Daniel Rhodes had also been the first person to sneak her a taste of the finest malt whiskey she'd ever tried when she was 5. All in all, she liked him and treated him like her uncle.

"Mama! Uncle Lawrence wants to see you!" Halcyon called up the staircase.

Her mother literally tore down the staircase with Elliot in her arms. She approached Lawrence urgently.

"How is Chatogh? How is my husband?"

Halcyon absentmindedly toyed with the dog tags she now wore constantly around her neck (as her father always had) while waiting for Uncle Lawrence to tell her everything, that her father was coming home soon, and that he was fine. But the next words made her stop cold.

" _He's dead, Takeko."_

Dimly, she heard her mother gasp. "No. _No._ He can't be."

"He is. I'm so sorry, Takeko. I tried, I really did, but we were overrun and he decided to make a final stand. He saved all of us. We wouldn't have been able to make it out of that dogfight without him."

"Papa's dead? But he promised he'd come back." Halcyon's small, tremulous voice rose up.

The two adults' heads snapped towards her. Takeko looked at her in mixture of shock and agony, as her daughter's mind slowly started to figure out that her father had left them. Forever.

Lawrence just looked at her sympathetically and passed her a slightly singed Black Hawks snapback. In the inseam was embroidered _Chatogh Chevanelle._

Halcyon's small fist clenched violently around the dog tags, and as if by mocking coincidence, the carving _Survive_ flashed.

Only one thought formed in Halcyon's mind. It changed her forever. Changed her life. Changed her heart. That day forced her to grow up, too fast, too early, too hard.

 _You promised._


	2. Chapter 1 - A New World

**Chapter 1 - A New World**

" _Home is not a it. Home is a they."_

She woke up groaning. Shaking her head, she turned her head up in an attempt to ease the pounding headache she had at the back of her head, only to be blinded by sunlight filtering through trees. She cursed at the inconvenience of it all, before stopping dead. Wait… Since when were there trees at the Imperial Queen's University? She sat up in alarm and looked around. Her belongings were strewn about her, the books she'd been carting back to Amma's house, her phone lying a few metres away, her backpack lying at the roots of a very, _very_ tall tree. Getting to her feet unsteadily, she swallowed the dryness in her mouth, gathering her belongings to her. She flipped open her backpack, checking for everything. Her laptop, her cordless Beats, psychology textbooks, IQ books… Yes, everything was there. She pulled out her bottle and took a desperate gulp, the cool liquid clearing her mind. Feeling invigorated, she dug into her emergency stash of Amma's chocolate chip cookies and devoured one hungrily. A little more energized, she took her next course of action.

 _Take a close look at your surroundings._

Glancing around, she was shocked to see, instead of the normal paved tar roads and skyscrapers, tall trees with smooth bark and silvery leaves. The ground was moist, damp earth, and a clear river flowed beside her. The air wasn't polluted. This was _really_ strange. Slinging her backpack over her shoulder, she pulled out her phone, intending to call Darcy and swear the shit out of her for playing such a distasteful prank, when she realised that the 3G was at zero bars. No WiFi. No data. And there was nowhere close to the Imperial Queen's University with this bad of a signal.

"Godforsaken place." She muttered. She tried the GPS, but nothing happened either. What the hell was going on?

The thundering of horse hooves interrupted her thoughts.

A group of people, incredibly pale and _pretty_ men (were they even men?) rode horses up the rise. And of course, in defence and the shock of being dropped somewhere she didn't know, she pulled out her Glock and aimed an unwavering hand at the presumed leader. The lead rider, however, had different ideas about this. Her first glimpse of him was rather disconcerting, seeing as he was wearing a black bathrobe together with a set of medieval armor polished to a shiny silver, had impossibly flawless skin, and delicately pointed ears (how?). And his dress sense was horrible. His perfect dark hair came to waist length and was braided back into a fishtail, and his intense blue eyes bored into her. Also, not to mention that he was pointing a bow at her face, arrow loaded and bowstring pulled back. His horse snorted loudly.

At his back was a group of similar people, all on horseback, also with bows, forming a loose semicircle around her, all bows aimed at her. The only difference they had with the lead guy was that their hair was light stared at her, while she stared back. The dark haired one broke the silence by asking her gently, "Excuse me, my lady, but what are you doing so deep in the forests of Imladris? And if I may, why are you wearing such strange clothes?"

She frowned at him, "I woke up here. Where the hell am I? Please answer my question unless you want your brains blown out of your head."

The lines around the man's eyes deepened, while the other 'men' snarled and moved forward. "You would not be able to hurt us with those flimsy things, young lady. I suggest you step down and tell us where you are from. Mordor, perhaps?" One of the gold haired ones hissed.

In a way of answer, she fired a shot at the ground beneath his horse's hooves. The animal reared in fright and almost threw his rider off. The other men got ready their bows to fire, but the dark haired raised his hand and they reluctantly lowered their weapons. He put down his bow, and dismounted. Her eyes narrowed slightly, and she kept her handguns pointed at his forehead. His companions seemed very startled, but they obviously trusted their leader's judgement enough to stay put. The man who'd spoken earlier though, still clutched his bow tightly, the muscles in his back wound tighter than violin strings.

"I didn't mean to be rude, forgive me for doing so. However, I must inquire your business in Rivendell. My name is Elrond, and yours is?"

She replied suspiciously,"Halcyon Chevanelle. I'm from Earth. I woke up here. Now will someone please tell me what is going on?"

Elrond pondered thoughtfully," You are dressed in a rather, _revealing,_ way. Likafar, please fetch a cloak for the young lady here."

The prissy guy went to dismount, but Halcyon stopped him immediately. "There is nothing wrong with my clothes. I should be saying the same to you, _Elrond_. Why the hell are you even dressed in bathrobes and blankets?"

"Bathrobes and blankets? I assure you, Lady Halcyon, that it is perfectly normal for us to wear these. Now, my lady, you might like to sit down and get some rest. I am an elvish healer, and I can help you. Please tell me if you consumed anything strange less than an hour ago..."

"I didn't eat anything funny! And you, you're wearing stuff we wore hundreds of years ago. Look who's talking! We're not in medieval times anymore, prissy!"

"Prissy? You dare call Lord Elrond a prissy!" The annoying ass, Likafar, cried in outrage. "You are a cursed, disgusting orc! Even King Thranduil respects him! You cannot do this - "

"Who says I can't? _Lord Elrond? King Thranduil?_ Those ages were over hundreds of years ago! Stop your damn cosplaying and do something more fucking productive with your lives! Retarded fake elves." She snarled.

 _'Lord'_ Elrond was frowning, deep in thought, "What proof have you that you come from another world, Lady Halcyon?"

Halcyon didn't know what it was with the stupid 'lady' thing, but she pulled out her Samsung Touchscreen phone and unlocked it.

One of the guys gave a small squeal like a pansy girl and cried out, "What the devil is this sorcery which glows like the sun?"

Another shouted, "It is small and thin, yet responds to touch and glows with power! What is this new devilry?"

"You mean you don't use these? Oh please! Even the most rural areas in our world know what a fucking smartphone is!"

"Smartphone?" 'Lord' Elrond asked curiously, "What is the 'smartphone' which you speak of?"

Halcyon face palmed. She said each word slowly and deliberately, as if speaking to a toddler, "A. Smartphone. Is. An. Object. Which. Allows. You. To. Send. Messages. And. Call. Others. Over. Long. Distances. If. They. Have. The. Same. Device. And. With. Connection. Which I do _not_ have now, apparently."

Seeing the bewildered look on the poor guy's face, she decided to spare him the pain of acting like he was stupid. Tucking her phone back in her pocket, she looked about and sighed.

"So, tell me, guys, where the hell am I?" She questioned.

Elrond shared a glance with the elf closest to him, before replying, "I believe that in the common tongue which you speak, it would be known as Middle Earth. However, if you would wish to be more specific, you now dwell in the forest south of Rhudaur and west of the Misty Mountains."

Quizzically, she glanced about, before she heard some dazed groaning.

"Darce?" She turned and sprinted towards the sound. The 'Lord' Elrond immediately swung himself onto his horse and urged it after her. She rolled her eyes. _Of course, can't let the mentally unsound girl get away._

"Oh. My. God. I see Hal!" Her best friend, Darcy Carrie Williams grinned stupidly and wrapped her arms around Halcyon's middle. "When I thought I was on my own, lost and abandoned-"

Darcy was a cute sweetheart, with short amethyst coloured hair and azure blue eyes. Her skin was utterly unblemished and she was short and petite, had a big smile which could have dripped honey, and was dressed in a short yellow summer dress with brown leather boots and skinny jeans. Always the prettier and louder of the two, Darcy had gotten all the male attention back at home, while Halcyon had always been one to stay hidden in the corner.

"Where the hell are we?" She snarled, shaking her best friend rather unhelpfully, Darcy rolling her eyes.

"Does it look like I know, Sweetheart?" Darcy huffed, brushing some leaves of her jeans, and patting her hair down. Darcy seemed to have faced the same incident as her. Her Harry Potter and Greek History books were lying everywhere on the floor, and she quickly picked them up.

"Lady Halcyon, this is?-" Elrond asked cautiously.

"My friend. Darcy. She's from Earth too." She answered shortly. Darcy gave the _'elf lord'_ a regally clumsy curtsy, a big grin on her lips.

Lord Elrond took her hand and gently brushed his lips against her knuckles. Darcy blushed. Halcyon scoffed in her mind silently. Obviously she didn't warrant the same _lady_ treatment as Darcy did. Not that she wanted to be treated like one. Likafar, also, shot her a dirty look before dropping into a respectful bow.

 _Biased, much?_

Darcy gave a giggle, before bowing back at Likafar as well. Halcyon gave an internal groan before leaning against a tree trunk. She didn't blame Darcy, her strikingly (and sometimes annoying) good looks and innocent (read: childish and naive) behaviour, as well as her cute girl charm was always attractive to the guys. Darcy was the Princess Rapunzel. Halcyon the green iguana / ugly duckling.

"Shall we get ready to go, then?" Likafar suggested, readying his horse. Stretching out his hand to Darcy (and blatantly ignoring Halcyon), he helped her mount behind him. Elrond then offered his hand to Halcyon.

"I'd rather have my own horse, El." She replied, her voice still cold and icy. Elrond didn't seem to notice, nodding, before gesturing for one of the elves to lead her a horse. The horse was jet black, tossing his mane and pawing the ground.

"This is Anmohorath. He has been riderless since his last master left him." Elrond explained. "Let us see if he is able to warm up to you."

The black horse snorted, stormy grey eyes meeting her own violet ones. She felt a _link,_ a connection _._ Tentatively but fearlessly, she stretched her hand out to the horse.

The horse dipped his head to her, and brushed his velvety soft nose against her palm.

"This cannot be true!" An elf demanded. "The mortal must have some form of witchcraft about her! The last elf to try tame the beast received several broken bones! She is but a mere mortal with no link to nature!"

"Watch who you're calling a witch!" Darcy spat at him protectively. "She's my _best_ friend and I won't stand anyone calling her names!"

Halcyon put her hand on the horse's flank, ignoring the elf. She gripped his reins and swung herself onto Anmohorath's back. Then leaning in, she whispered into his ear. "Anmohorath's a long name. We'll shorten it to Axel, alright?" The horse snorted, as if in agreement.

"Let's go."

On the way to Rivendell, Darcy quickly relayed her entire life, including the history of several boyfriends, to the elves, while Halcyon snoozed casually on the back of Axel. The elves had been absolutely mind blown by the idea of flying metal wagons (aeroplanes), light without fire (light bulbs, duh), and energy that flowed along metal strands (electricity). Showing them the pictures of their world on her smartphone (the Imperial Queen's University), she could tell they were awed. Like really shocked and impressed. But it was nothing compared to Rivendell itself.

Once they'd broken forest cover and ridden along a narrow ledge beside a towering waterfall, they'd gotten their first glimpse of Rivendell. The Imperial Queen's University seem to pale in comparison to it.

Halcyon's' first thought was : _Oh my god, I've died and gone to heaven_

The place was just too pretty and perfect, like the elves around her. It was located in the middle of a valley with several crashing waterfalls, the mist shrouding it like a bride's veil. Gleaming spires pierced the very air, the tranquility of the place as obvious as her scar. Giving the place an incredulous look, she turned to Elrond, "How _the hell_ did you find this place?"

"What lies before you is Rivendell, Imladris, The Last Homely House East of the Sea." Elrond gestured at the architecture behind her with an air of fondness, like a man advertising his favourite dog.

The little entourage continued on. They crossed a bridge that connected the ridge to the ground that Rivendell was located on. The bridge was elaborately carved stone, and would have been _beautiful_ and _angelic._ But unfortunately, it was missing one very important detail, otherwise known as handrails. And they still had to cross it.

 _Man, Middle Earth simply does not believe in handrails,_ she marvelled at the stupidity in silence as she crossed over the top, staring at the rushing river below. She wondered how it would feel if she slipped off Axel and plunged straight to her death. She would either die of asphyxiation, the impact of her head on the rocks, really, the possibilities were endless. Grimacing slightly at the thought, she turned as they emerged into the central courtyard.

There was greenery everywhere. And a dark haired elf greeted them there.

Like all other elves, he was overly perfect and pretty, with supermodel hair and blinding white teeth. His eyes, like Lord Elrond's, held the weight of the years, though no marks marred his face. Bowing regally (did all elves have such perfect manners?), he greeted his 'Lord' in a strange but also overly pretty sounding language.

Elrond answered him quietly, minutely nodding his head at the two girls. Halcyon's keen eyes caught the tiny movement and narrowed her eyes.

"This is Lindir, he will take Lady Halcyon to clean up and rest." Elrond told no one in particular, but everyone still listened. Halcyon casually slid off Axel's back, stroking him and giving him a quick kiss on the nose.

"Lead the way then," she indicated to Lindir, who inclined his head and led her to up a flight of steps to a stone archway and through a stone corridor.

Every single elf she passed was too pretty, too perfect. Flawless, unblemished fair skin, huge eyes in cool shades of blue or grey, long silky rivers of perfect hair. And all of them turned to gawk at her tan skin, violet eyes and of course, the scar.

"You have always been slighted, my lady?" Lindir asked, completely out of the blue. He seemed rather uneasy.

"Yeah." She raised a sardonic eyebrow. "Perceptive, aren't you?"

"I apologize if my question has caused you discomfort. I was only curious. You have a dark aura about you." He replied gravely. She hated the pitying look in his eyes.

Halcyon gave him an incredulous look. "Elves can sense auras now? What happened to the little guys in caps dancing in the fields?"

Lindir pinched the bridge of his nose, showing the possibility of his elven patience wearing thin, and opened a door set in the wall of the corridor. "My lady, we have reached. Your belongings have already been sent inside. Lord Elrond will see you soon." He quickly ushered her in.

The tall elf bowed respectfully, before closing the door behind him.

And finally, she was left alone.

Looking around, she realised that she was in a huge room. With a smooth granite floor and a wall made out of glass, its sheer gauzy curtains pushed to either side, the room offered a stunning view of the valley and the waterfalls. The walls were ornamentally carved marble and wood, the stone somehow protective, not suffocating. Delicately painted floral designs and oil paintings adorned the walls, and a huge iron wrought bed was in the centre, against an adjacent wall. Above was a huge chandelier exquisitely crafted from crystal, providing the room with a soft golden glow. Peeking about, she noticed a large closet (not that she had a lot to unpack), as well as a discrete door to the washroom. Huffing in exasperation at being dumped in a wonderfully decorated room/prison, she slumped back on the bed and went out like a light.

A soft knocking interrupted her nap. Groaning as her retinas were pan fried by the sun, she sat up, and came face to face with an angel. Or a ghost.

She yelled and would have skewered the freakishly perfect woman with the blade in her Swiss Army Knife if the woman had not leapt back in alarm. She was tall, as most elf women she'd seen earlier. Robed in a floaty, gauzy dress that seemed to be made of several layers of the same sheer fabric as her curtains, the woman had pin straight golden blonde hair pinned back and huge deep brown doe eyes. Her lips were stretched into a nervous smile, and she had a washcloth draped over her arm like a piece of limp pancake.

"Who are _you_?" She demanded furiously, her knife still raised.

"Forgive me for startling you, my lady." The elf woman bowed regally, an apologetic look on her face. "Lord Elrond has requested for me to aid you to wash up and dress. _Mae G'ovannen,_ my name is Elendriel."

"My goal is a van-in? Huh?"

"I apologize, I failed to remember that you do not speak nor understand Sindarin. I ask that you forgive me, my lady. I meant to say greetings to you, _Mae G'ovannen._ _Êl síla erin lû e-govaned vîn._ A star shines on the hour of our meeting, it is an honour to meet you, Lady Halcyon. _"_

Halcyon had to bite her tongue from resisting to say, "It's like noon and you're telling me there's a star? What star?"

Cautiously lowering her knife, she raised an eyebrow. "Elrond thinks I can't take a bath by myself? It's alright, just pass me the clothing and I'll do it."

Seeing how uncomfortable she was at the thought of having someone bathe her, Elendriel stepped back and bowed, before handing her the washcloth and a bundle of clothes. But Halcyon just looked surprised.

"I have to wear curtains?" Halcyon gingerly lifted the gauzy, sheer fabric with a finger, as if it were contaminated.

Elendriel, either not noticing or being very tactful, shook her head with honest amusement with a peal of soft laughter that sounded so clear and beautiful Halcyon actually winced.

"Of course not, my lady!" Elendriel giggled, "That is your dress. Lord Elrond has requested that you wear it to meet him later."

She held it up to the light, examining it closely. It was made of a snug corset and elaborately beaded bodice, sparkling with seed pearls and tiny cut crystals, and long, flowing sleeves, made of the same sheer fabric as her curtains. The skirt was formed by three layers of the flowing fabric, and would have reached her feet had she put it on.

All in all, it looked _ridiculous._ Were the elves secretly plotting to kill her by making her wear this death trap? It'd be a miracle in itself if she could walk more than three steps in it.

"You want me to wear _that?"_ She looked at the dress , she was sure that if an elf like Elendriel had put it on, or even some other random woman she'd seen here, she could - no, _would_ have looked like a supermodel on a runway. But _no way_ could she pull it off.

"Yes, of course." Elendriel nodded, her gentle smile beaming at Halcyon. "I am sure you would look lovely in it."

Halcyon internally gagged, but managed to keep her cool.

"Oh, no I'm sure I'll be fine without this." She held her hands up in surrender. "I have a pair of spare clothes in my bag." She quickly pointed to her backpack. All the books that she'd been carting to Amma's place had been neatly stacked beside it with her portable SoundMixer on top, much to her pleasant appreciation.

"But-" Before Elendriel could finish her sentence, Halcyon had already grabbed the towel and her backpack, before ducking through the bathroom door.

And boy, this was _so_ not a bathroom.

It looked more a ballroom, a wall made of a man made waterfall, with a huge circular stone bath in the centre embedded into the floor. A ornate sandalwood box lay on a shelf against the wall. When she opened it, the inside was filled with glass vials of perfumes and soaps, the kind that only appeared in premium shops such as La Tige Boutique. This could have been part of a goddamn palace or a seven star hotel.

Figuring that the knob at the side operated the bath, she twisted it experimentally and smirked when warm water started flowing from the tap. Stripping herself free of her dirty clothes, she slipped into the bath. Freeing her messy, choppy black hair from its tie, she rubbed some of the shampoo in and sighed in pleasure.

Gosh, she was so freaking dirty she didn't even want to imagine how she looked now.

 _Well, falling into some new world of a fandom random movie will do that to you._ She internally rolled her eyes.

After she was done, she dried herself off with one of the fluffy white towels on the racks, towelling off her hair. Pulling on her other set of clothes, a pair of navy blue skinny jeans and a sleeveless grey hoodie, together with a Black Hawks snapback, she took a look at the mirror. Her choppy black hair had always given her a rough look. Lean, deceptively strong, tan arms were crossed across her chest. An oval face, which might have been pretty if not for the scar, and startling violet eyes, paired with a pronounced Cupid's Bow mouth. Scowling at the scar again, she stuffed her clothes back inside the backpack and went out into the room.

Elendriel was gone.

Well, she didn't really bother much. Taking out her Ipod, she started to play 'Dance Without You', by Skylar Grey, a remix by Ricky Luna. Tapping her foot to the beat, she started to dance. It was a time filler for her, and by the time Elendriel had come back she'd finished over 12 dances that amounted to over half an hour without breaking a sweat.

"My lady, Lord Elrond wishes to see you now." Elendriel held open the door, and Halcyon felt a sense of dread settle over her. She was pretty sure she could survive in the wild if the elf guy insisted that they be kicked out of his royal house, but could Darcy?

Following her down the long hallways, Halcyon fingered the Swiss army Knife in her belt nervously. Never know when someone is going to jump out and kill you.

Two elven guards stood outside the door. One, she noticed with hearty displeasure, was the asshole Likafar. He seemed equally unhappy to see her, giving her a look down from his significantly higher vantage point down his nose that she would have usually associated with raw sewage. Scowling back at him, she followed Elendriel to the door, on which she knocked three times.

"Lord Elrond? Lady Halcyon is ready to meet you." The tall elf called.

"Send her in, Elendriel."

"Yes, my Lord."

As the doors swung open, Halcyon felt her hand getting squeezed lightly by Elendriel's much smoother and delicate one, before it fell away. Giving her a quick, encouraging smile, Elendriel bowed to the two guards at the door before scurrying away.

"Well," Halcyon shrugged under her breath, "YOLO, right?"

Then she entered.


End file.
